Exchange of Nature
by Jurodan
Summary: It was a simple mistake. The nurse could hardly be blamed. After all, babies look the same right after they're born.
1. Chapter 1

The Swap

It was a simple mistake, an easy mistake to make, in fact. Hospitals are busy places, nurses overworked and under extreme stress, even more so since quirks began developing. And there were few areas as stressful as the maternity ward. Hospitals had to hire on additional staff after quirks began appearing. While most quirks didn't develop until a child was four, mutation quirks were different. Children born with oddly shaped heads or differently shaped limbs were more prone to difficult births for a variety of reasons. It was a conflux of two women with mutation quirked children both coming in at the same time, both of whose water had broken and one of whom had their water break a month early that really strained the staff.

It was a very tiny mistake. The nurse could be forgiven for it, and eventually would be by at least one of the sets of parents involved. It might have been prevented if one of the parents had come for the birth. The child of the famous hero Endeavor, number two in the world, would have received far more attention than his far less well known wife did if he had been there. The mistake may still have been avoided if she hadn't grown to hate him and his name so much that she used her own maiden name just to spite him. But he hadn't, and she did, and so, in a rush, there was a slight change. A swap of nametags, a mistake on paperwork, the nurse could hardly have been blamed. Babies, after all, look very much the same shortly after birth.

It was a little over a year before one of the parents began to question the parentage. It wasn't either of the Todoroki's. Endeavor had no interest at all in the child until they had a quirk, and woe would betide the child if they didn't have one, and their mother's growing despondency muted the questions she might otherwise have asked. No, it was the parents of the other child who began to wonder at their child's appearance. Four colors between hair and eyes, and yet none of those colors matched either parent in any way. But it wasn't totally unheard of for such things to be dictated by quirks, a sort of indicator for the future. And that was what they chalked it up to, especially once their child developed his quirk, or rather, his quirks.

But it was at that time when questions began to be raised about the other child. Nearing the age of four, the father began to pay attention to the child and he did not like what he saw. The child obviously took more after his mother than himself, a fact he found galling, but if the child held his desired dual quirk he would have allowed it to slide. But the child didn't, and it galled the hero once again, watching the pops and crackles springing from the child's tiny hands. It wasn't even a proper manifestation of his family's quirk, and he was about to dismiss the child and try yet again, but the wrongness of it nagged at him. Another disappointment, one that didn't even look like him, with a quirk that was barely adequately connected to fire; not even his other children were so disappointing.

The hero, while callous, was no fool. He knew how his wife felt about him; he knew that despite the relative opulence that he provided that she did not love him. Further he knew how little time he actually spent with her. It was that knowledge that set him to gather a few of his 'son's' hair and have them tested. The results left him furious, a blazing inferno that threatened to consumer his home, and in a fury he had the other children tested. That was when it came out. The child wasn't his, that was true, but neither was he a relative to his other children. The hero and the rest of his family were shocked by the revelation, but from there Endeavor followed the trail back, all the way back to the hospital.

Katsuki Bakugo was just over five when he first met the man who would claim to be his father. He hadn't noticed the increasing number of phone calls that his parents had been receiving. They waited until he was fast asleep before having quiet conversations when they found out the truth. They didn't speak of the legal demands that were being sent to them. They held their tears and began to talk to him about a great hero, someone who had a fire quirk like himself. But they couldn't hold them back when he finally came to claim him. His mother and father sat next to him, trembling as the hero began to speak to their child, as he told her that he wasn't really her child, that he was his own son. It was when he told the child that he would be coming home with him, that he would be leaving his mother and father and that they would be receiving their own true born child in turn that the tears began to flow. His mother hugged him and promised him that she loved him before he was taken away.

Author's notes: So, simple premise. Bakugo and Todoroki were swapped at birth. I have at least a few chapters of this planned out in my head, but it likely won't go super far. I've already got one story moving through canon, I'm not sure I need another.


	2. Chapter 2

Fissures

Katsuki Mitsuki sat in the kitchen, a cup warming her hands. Sleep eluded her. It had been eluding her for months. Ever since the hospital had contacted her, ever since she had been told that there may have been a mistake, ever since she had been asked to bring in a sample of her and her son's hair. She did not drink from the slowly cooling drink. She didn't want to. She hadn't wanted to. She should have refused. Katsuki was her child. Her child. _Her_ child. But she hadn't seen the threat. If she had, she would have refused.

As soon as she gave them the sample she began to regret it, it was just something in the back of her mind. By the time the results finally arrived she had grown to quietly dread them. She was called in to the hospital and quietly informed that her son was not hers, that her son was actually the child of the hero Endeavor. She'd been thunderstruck, but it fit half of her son's quirks so well. She knew she would have to contact him, to let him know so he could see her son. But he was already there. He had simply marched in after she had received the news and ordered the hospital staff out.

Being in the presence of the number two hero in the world should have been awe inspiring, but it wasn't. For all his fire he could only look at her coldly. He asked her what her child's quirk was. That was his first question. Not her child's name. Not how her child was. What was her child's quirk. Like that was all he was, that that was what defined him. She didn't answer the first time he asked, and so he asked again, eyes narrowing.

She knew she made a mistake when she told him, because in an instant his entire demeanor changed. He looked pleased in way that worried her. And then he acknowledged her son, claiming her son was his heir. A pit formed in the center of her stomach. It was like she wasn't there, like she didn't exist to him. Katsuki may have been his child by blood, but he was her son. She had raised him, she had fed him and bathed him and clothed him and cared for him. When he skinned his knee she was the one who made it better. When he had a nightmare he ran to her, crawled into bed between her and Masaru so he could feel safe enough to fall back to sleep. He was her son.

But he wasn't. Not to the man in front of her.

He wasn't interested in her child; not as a child. Her son wasn't a person to him, would never be a person to him. Her son was a quirk to him, nothing more. The realization was as startling as it was terrifying. She knew he wanted her son, and he knew that she knew because it was then that he sat down and tried to lie to her. He was sure that she had been a fine mother figure, not that he had asked any questions, not that he knew anything about her or how she had raised her child, but clearly the boy, her son, should go home to his family.

At that her composure cracked. She bristled as she informed him that he was at home with his family. Just like Endeavor's son was at home, with his family.

The 'hero' wasn't amused. His 'son' was nothing of the sort and was waiting to be sent to his new home with his actual family. That put everything in sharp relief. That man, a man who would cast out a child that had been raised in his home since birth, wanted her child. She refused. She got up and grabbed her purse to leave when he sighed, giving her a disgusted look and snapped his fingers. Another man entered the room, a dull little man, barely there and yet suddenly in her way. He was smiling without smiling as he handed her paperwork. A lawsuit waiting for her the moment she left the room. A promise that she would lose, there was precedent, the evidence was undeniable, the sample she had provided was the proof needed. That was the last she heard as she left the room.

She returned home in tears, arriving just before her son got home. She hugged him and kissed him and barely hid tears as she asked him if he wanted a snack before sending him to watch TV. She hid as she called Masaru, telling him to come home, demanding and begging at the same time. Then she returned to her son, hugging him tightly as they watched news about All Might. She desperately hoped she could find a hero to help her.

That… wasn't to be. Things began to spiral out of control. She and Masaru began contacting lawyers, but the words Endeavor's lawyer had used were also used by them. There was precedent. He had rights as the birth father. There were apologies and offers to help them seek damages from the hospital, but they were told that there simply was no ground to stand on. And then things became more tenuous when Masaru lost his job. It was a sudden affair, no warning, no hints. He alone was let go, and offered best wishes on finding new employment.

And then her boss called her into his office and offered her similar regrets.

They had money saved. Not a lot, but enough, surely enough. They still hadn't found a lawyer who thought they had a good chance of keeping their son. One thought that he might be able to get them visitation rights, as if that was enough. And then the man who was hardly there but right in front of her returned. He offered terms, and a threat. Mitsuki snatched up the articles, prewritten and just waiting to be published. The words were poison, slick sleek and toxic. They would be accused of holding their son hostage from their rightful father, a man grievously wounded by their refusal to release their son to him. It was galling, appalling, but written well. Masaru put the article he had been holding down and sat silent for a moment before asking how long they would be able to keep their son.

Mitsuki felt fear trickle down her spine as she felt her son being taken away from her. Masaru couldn't meet her eye as he spoke. They had no money to fight a trial. The case law was against them. They wouldn't be able to hide it from Katsuki if these articles were published. Endeavor had beaten them as soundly as he did any villain. They had to do what they could to protect their son, to… to help ease him out of their home. He was crying long before he finished, and she was crying alongside him. She tried to rebut him, letting him know, again, what sort of man Endeavor was. Surely there was something that could be done. But he turned to her and shook his head; the spark of resistance had been snuffed out of her husband.

Still she refused to accept it. She could… she could take Katsuki. She could leave. She would be able to call Masaru to her later. She would have to find a place Endeavor wouldn't find her. But the man who was barely there but was still in her way, offering her a bland little smile and shake of his head. For all she knew he could read minds, but even if that wasn't his quirk she could tell that he knew what she had been thinking. He proved it by mentioning that, in anticipation of the articles going out, their house was being surreptitiously watched to make sure no villain tried to abscond with the child.

Mitsuki was lost to tears as Masaru argued for the best terms he could. Endeavor was not a patient man.

In the end, they had a week. A week to tell their son about the mistake the hospital made, to let him know that he would be going to… to his father's home, to help him acclimate, to say their goodbyes. It wasn't enough time, not nearly enough.

A week, she had one last week with her son. Without work, she pulled him out of school, spending every second she could with him. She slept beside him, caressing his hair as he slept.

And now, there was a different child in her home. He was her child, but not her child. He was a child that looked at her like a stranger, who narrowed his eyes when she tried to talk to him. He was a stranger, a stranger in her life, in her house, and now inside her child's bed. He looked like her; he had her eyes, her hair. She could see the similarities. But he was different, alien. He was her son, but he wasn't. He hadn't been her son for years, and it hurt because now her son was with the family that had made her son, her blood into a boy that refused to speak to her, that didn't trust her or her husband, and looked at them with a coldness that her son would not be able to reproduce if he created a glacier.

Author's notes: Well that was sad. Next up, someone from the Todoroki household.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: The reason we never see anyone try to stab Endeavor in the heart is because he doesn't have one.

Matters

Fuyumi didn't know what to think the night her mother left. She seen her father stomping towards the separate house that she and the brother she didn't even know lived in. She heard the shouting, watched as light flickered from inside windows. It was the first and only time she saw her brother, bundled up against their mother as she ran from the house and out of the compound. It was the last time she had seen her mother. She watched with Toya and Natsuo, peaking so she wouldn't be caught.

They watched the building burn down after her mother fled. Their father marched out of the ashes, his face a mask of fury. She'd seen the look before, but never so intense. When he returned to their house, he looked at her and her brothers differently, his eyes narrowed more so than they had ever been. She gripped Natsuo's hand, but Toya didn't hold hers. She didn't understand why father wanted their combs, or what he intended to do with them, but she was too scared to do anything but run to grab hers for him.

For the next week he didn't speak to them. He only looked at them, his eyes roving over them, looking for more imperfections. She felt anxious under his gaze. Before she had been a failure, now she was like a prisoner. She didn't find out why until her father's fury returned. At the time she was more relieved that he was grinding down someone from outside the household, rather than her or her brothers. But it was a rare sight she saw when he finished, marching back to the common room and ordering them to meet him. He looked almost defeated.

What he told them, what he showed them, with the sourness of a man scorned, was that their brother, the one she had never seen, was not his son. The child that had been cast out of his home was not his. But neither was he truly their brother. He wasn't related to any of them, not even their mother. He wasn't a failure, he was an accident, someone given to their family by mistake. Their father said that they were his children, and that he would retrieve their mother and find their brother.

Toya said he hoped he failed.

Their father bristled and sent them away, and Fuyumi wondered. Would she see her mother again? Would her mother recognize her when she saw her again? But it didn't happen. Her father did not speak of their mother again, but returned with the boy who wasn't their sibling. Their father announced that he would be a guest, waiting in their home until his proper home and their actual brother was found.

Watching him as her father spoke, she could see her father in him. He may not be her brother, but he was her father's son. Anger radiated off of him like unseen flames, and his eyes were filled with the same smoldering fury. There was envy there too, every bit as naked as her father's envy of All Might, except it was directed at her and her brothers. She wondered if he knew how willingly her brothers would trade places with him if they could, but she said nothing. He wouldn't listen to her any more than her father would.

Having him in the house made everything worse. He was her father in miniature, and the peace that usually existed while he was on a mission or just out of the house was absent while the child her father would not accept lingered in their home. Not being a Todoroki he suffered through none of the training that Toya and Natsuo were still put through, which only ramped up since he arrived, but that just made him even more bitter, fingers digging into his knees as he saw 'failures' trained instead of him. He would glare at the door while her brothers struggled against their father and came up wanting. She never knew what to say to him, and whenever he saw her his red eyes burrowed into her in a way that was matched only by her father's worst days. She avoided him whenever she could.

And then, one day, he was gone. There was no farewell. Her father took the child that was his in every way but blood and returned with the one that was. And it was clear that the boy that entered the house that day was her brother. Looking at him it was obvious that he was kin. His hair, his eyes, his quirks, it was impossible for him to be anything else. But where the boy who was not her brother was her father's son, the boy who was her brother was his mother's son. She could see the misery in his eyes, the wet trails on his cheeks. He didn't want to be here, he never wanted to come here. Couldn't her father see that?

Did it matter to him at all?

Author's notes: Next up, another parent (or two), struggling with their child.


	4. Chapter 4

Fathers

Masaru stared up at the ceiling. Mitsuki wasn't beside him. His child wasn't in his room. And the poor child who had replaced him was… damaged. He never would have thought to use the word to describe a child before, but the boy was so angry, so full of hate. He was lashing out at them at every opportunity, physically, verbally or even with his quirk. He was the main target, but only because Mitsuki wasn't there. She was there physically, but was so far, far away. The spark inside her had guttered out; leaving her in a malaise, waiting for a call that he desperately hoped would come.

Saying he was much better would have been a lie, but someone needed to function, even if it was for a child who openly despised the very air they breathed. The settlement from the hospital, a ludicrous sum that matched the one Endeavor had extricated from them, at least took care of their finances. Everything else though, was a struggle. Cooking and cleaning came naturally to him, just another one of the things his son took umbrage with. He took the boy to school and picked him up, and found another school when the first one said they could no longer handle him. He would likely have to look again soon. The guidance counselor was already recommending medications, not that he believed he would ever be able to get the boy to take them.

The only thing that seemed to calm the boy was news about his father. Not Masaru obviously, but the hero Endeavor. The boy devoured anything and everything about the man who had cast him aside. Masaru was not a drinker, but he was at least familiar with the concept of counter drinking. It was just drinking poison to delay the effects of poison. It made everything worse, but he couldn't think of anything else to do.

What sort of man could Endeavor be if this was the son he raised?

* * *

Endeavor stewed, unable to sleep. All the child knew was how to cry. After all the effort he had expended, all the time he had spent, the arrangements made, the resources he had expended, he had finally achieved his goal. He had created his successor, his masterpiece. He had created something that would one day be the number one hero. And then because of utter incompetence it had all been pissed away.

The civilians who had raised the boy until now had ruined him, leaving him as weak like his mother. It would take years to undo the damage they had inflicted upon his creation, years that would have been better spent training him to become the number one hero. He would have to wear down their influence, burn away the imperfections they had instilled in him. The boy would have to forget them; he would leave no residue to reinfect him.

The look the boy gave him during training sickened him. He had flinched when Endeavor lit up his flames. He refused to release either fire or ice, stammering out that he wasn't supposed to, not inside. He needed to learn his place, he was not to speak back to his father, he was to do what he was told. And yet still he tried to defy him by stammering out that his 'mother', a woman who was nothing of the sort, had told him not to. His slap had sent the boy sprawling, and the look of terror on his face when he got to his knees made Endeavor's blood boil.

He would hear no more of the child's former family. He forbade the boy from speaking of them. His 'mom' and 'dad' were nothing now. They were not his parents and he would never hear from them again. He seized the boy when he began to cry and begged to go 'home'. That night he taught the boy the cost of defiance.

He would force the boy to forget them.

Author's note: Counter drinking is the Japanese term for drinking to cure a hangover (hair of the dog is the term I'd use). I tried to make it obvious, but just in case, now you know. I should mention that Masaru may have come across as… uncaring in chapter two, but that's not quite the case. He saw the writing on the wall and has tried to be there for Mitsuki and his son, and the 'son' that replaced his son. He still cares about the son he raised quite deeply. Todoroki Enji is just as bad, if not significantly worse, than he came across to the other characters. Funny how that works out.


	5. Chapter 5

Release

Anger, a low simmering hate for everyone and everything around him filled Touya. It was easy to be angry, easy to hate. His 'father' was an abusive bastard, his mother hidden away with a brother he had never even met, his siblings helpless, and his body couldn't handle his quirk. Not that that stopped his 'father' from demanding more and more out of him, dragging him off to train day after day. It had been suffocating, failing day after day, suffering under his 'father's' abuses, feeling his body weakening. He was dying, being killed more like it, being slowly eaten away by his own quirk and his 'father's' mad drive.

He had almost cracked under the pressure when his 'father' had driven his mother out of the compound. That night had terrified his brother and sister, but it hadn't scared him. He felt envy for his mother and brother; they were getting out, getting away. They wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. And then 'father' came home and glared at him like he had somehow failed yet again, but in an even more disappointing fashion than usual.

The next day though, oh the day after, he spent every minute of it wrapped up in knots, just waiting until his 'father' came to drag him to the dojo for abuse. But he didn't. Touya had barely been able to sleep that night, waiting for his 'father' to march in and wake him up so he could punish him for not being ready to 'train'. But then it was the next morning and he hadn't. His 'father' didn't even notice his exhaustion, leaving right after breakfast. A relief, since it allowed him to crawl into bed. He woke to darkness and silence. He felt a frisson of terror, half expecting his 'father' to be right there, just waiting for him, but… silence.

He was free of his 'father' for seven days before the absence of his usual brutal training was explained. Oh how he wished his mother had cheated. It would have galled his 'father' more than anything in the universe, and maybe he would have been able to find a real parent. But he wasn't that lucky. Instead, he was dragged to training after opening his mouth. Still, he couldn't help smiling to himself when he was finally sent back to his room to rest and recover.

Training resumed in earnest after that, punctuated by the occasional brutal sessions where he played his part as his 'father's' punching bag. The child from the other house was brought to live with them, but his mother didn't return. Lucky her. 'Training' intensified, and he felt the same suffocating pressure building inside him. He wasn't sure how long it would take his 'father' to break him, but it was coming.

Except it didn't. Instead the child from the other house disappeared and another child, his brother, was brought home. Red hair on one side, white on the other, one eye gray the other blue, and a quirk that produced both fire and ice. It was like he was a fusion of his 'father' and his mother, though, with all the tears, he thought it might gall his dad to know he took more after his mom.

Without warning, his training had ended. His 'father' showed no more interest him than he showed Fuyumi or Natsuo. He was just a failure in his 'father's' eyes and was spared no more thought than his fellow failures. He spent most of that first week blessed week of freedom in bed, letting aches and pains that had built up fade away. Fuyumi brought him meals, but he could see a growing misery in her eyes.

It wasn't until he saw his 'father' dragging their new brother to train that he saw why.

His brother was resisting like he had at first, but differently. Oh, he was still trying to squirm out of 'father's' grasp like he had, but he was also crying, begging, and that was only making their 'father' angrier. Out of morbid curiosity he followed, his stomach squeezing as the door to the training room slammed shut. He waited, unsure why he was waiting or what he was waiting for, the training room was soundproofed.

He turned and found Fuyumi and Natsuo behind him, looking both caught and scared. Had they been following him or 'father'? Or maybe they had followed their new brother's wailing? After a second they moved to join him at the door, saying nothing. He wasn't sure what they were here for, what they expected, but part of him wondered if they had done this for him. He was about to ask when he learned that the training room's soundproofing wasn't as total as their 'father' believed.

Author's notes: For perhaps the first time this story, someone got lucky. That week was a lifesaver. Perhaps Touya can put his new lease on life to work.


	6. Chapter 6

Forgiveness

Natsuo's stomach turned over and over and over again. He remembered the scant few times father had taken him to the dojo, demanded he display his quirk. He hadn't been impressed, even when Natsuo had done his best. He couldn't produce enough fire, or fire hot enough. He was a failure, cast out while Touya was brought back. He'd been angry, maybe envious. He'd gone to the training room at night before, hiding outside while father trained Touya.

It was different with his new brother. Touya never cried out. Touya never sobbed and begged. The familiar sounds of slaps and hits, he'd thought they were… he didn't know what they had been, he'd never cracked the door to watch, but he never thought that father was doing this. Touya was bigger, stronger, but the look on his face, the wrongness in his eyes. Natsuo lurched into him, wrapping his arms around his brother and blubbered in silence.

A second later Fuyumi was at his side, her arm wrapping around his back, grasping the hand behind Touya binding them to their brother. Sorries rushed out of him, barely above a whisper, and tears sank into his brother's shirt. Fuyumi was crying too, but above that he heard a hoarse cry from inside the dojo. And then there was pressure on his back. Touya bent his head down between them, whispering that they didn't know, that it wasn't their fault. Natsuo just continued to cry, shaking his head and smearing himself into his brother's side, but Touya hushed him.

They had to leave. Father would… father would find them if they stayed. From the silence it was likely that training was coming to an end. Father had pushed Katsuki past his limits. They couldn't be here when the door opened. Reluctantly Natsuo steadied himself and gave a nod to his brother, taking Fuyumi's hand as they snuck away to Touya's room.

They arrived, and promptly fell apart again. Tears spilled from his eyes. He hadn't known. His brother was so strong, he'd just thought, he didn't know what he'd thought. Touya was silent in the darkness, but squeezed back as they spoke. And finally it was all too much for him and he told them to stop. It wasn't their fault. It was father's fault. They weren't hurting him, they weren't hurting their brother. They weren't their father.

Natsuo wanted to cry more, but Touya asked them to be brave, to be strong. They would need them to be strong, stronger than they had ever been. They needed to be strong for him and for their brother, he would need them, and he would need people who cared. Was that really all they could do? Just be strong for him? He had failed his older brother, could he really fail his younger brother too? Was he really a failure like his father said?

Touya was silent for a long time after that. He needed time to think, and they needed to be in their beds in case father checked. He never did, but if he did they would get in trouble, and that would make things more difficult. Reluctantly he left with Fuyumi, but his brother stopped them at the door to give them a parting hug.

The night passed in silence and without sleep. Natsuo could hear his brother's cries whenever he closed his eyes. Some were those of his younger brother, echoing, others from older, imagined, and they gnawed on him. He struggled through the next day barely able to pay attention to his tutor. Touya visited him after, looking much the same as he felt, but gathered him up and brought him to Katsuki. Fuyumi was already there, talking with their brother, trying to comfort him. He didn't see how he could make it better, but he sat on Katsuki's other side as his brother cried about his mother and father and how he missed them.

He talked about them, even though father said he wasn't supposed to. It was… strange, listening to him talk about them. They weren't like father, they weren't even like mother. They had been there, been with him. He missed them terribly, he wanted, more than anything, to return to them. He'd give anything, do anything, but he couldn't even call them. Their father had confiscated and destroyed his phone the day he arrived, and he hadn't been given another. There were no phones in their home, father had long ago forbade them. Touya's eyes narrowed as they listened to their brother's begging and pleading, and then sat down in front of Katsuki. There was an intensity in his eyes that rivaled even their father's, a fire burning hot, but not with hatred.

Where did they live? What was their address? Their brother nodded and rambled out answers. He looked at Fuyumi, but she shook her head, and then to Touya who looked angry at himself. They might be close, they were in a nearby city, but none of them knew how to get there. Worse, they had no money to take a train or a taxi. Father wouldn't even give them enough to send a letter. Touya was frowning, but then hesitated and asked if Katsuki knew their phone number.

Author's notes: It turns out that the only people Endeavor's children can rely are on each other. It's taken them too long to realize that, and it's a step towards healing, but to start healing they have to stop the hurting.


	7. Chapter 7

Call and Answer

Mitsuki stared at her phone. She wasn't sure how long it had been. Time had lost all meaning. Her son had been taken from her by a villain disguised as a hero. She'd let him be taken. It didn't matter what Masaru said, it didn't matter what the lawyers said. All that mattered to her was that she failed to keep her son.

Everything else seemed to fall away after that. She lost track of days first, then hours. Night or day, darkness pervaded over everything. Some of her friends had called. She'd had a few listless conversations, carried by others. Masaru brought her food which he almost begged her to choke down. But what she wanted most she couldn't have.

She hadn't heard from her son since he was taken from her.

She wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd been taken, hours felt like days, days felt like months, a week could be a year. It was all so endless. The only thing she knew she had to do, the most important thing she could do, was keep her phone charged. Keep it active for when he called, if he called. It was the one thing she knew she could do. The one thing she was ready for. Any call, any number, she answered in an instant. It didn't matter if the number was from a friend, family, or unknown. All she could do was seize that chance, hope against hope when she put that phone to her ear that it would be her son's voice on the other end of the phone.

And every time it wasn't her son her heart was wrenched, and the darkness swept back over her.

Alone in the bedroom, the cellphone provided the only light.

* * *

She blinked and found herself looking into his room. She knew in an instant that she was dreaming, she knew because he was there. Her son was sitting on the floor in his room with his favorite All Might action figure, playing out the hero's adventures. She stepped inside and sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around him and asking him to tell her what All Might was doing. The story didn't matter; she would never remember it when she woke up, but she listened to him all the same.

And she listened, with mounting dread, for the knock that would take him away again.

The dream was familiar to her now. But every night her time with her son grew shorter. Soon he would be gone again. Torn from her. Again. It was impossible for her to enjoy the dream, knowing what was coming. Even these few moments with her son brought her no respite. He tugged at her sleeve and she looked down at him as he asked her what was wrong. She couldn't even answer him, and he looked so afraid.

She drew him into her arms as the knock began. She hugged him tight, willed him to stay with her this time, willed the people at the door away. Below her she heard the door open. Her son was scared and he was saying something, repeating himself. Usually he cried, but this time he spoke. Answer me. He kept repeating it. Answer me. Please mommy. Please. And then he was pulled from her arms. She knew who was doing it, but could never see them doing it. All she could see was her son as he was pulled away from her, crying again as she was left on the floor of his room. The hand that had held him was left tingling from her last touch. She wouldn't be able to keep him; she couldn't stop them from taking him.

She reached out for him anyway.

* * *

Mitsuki's eyes opened to darkness. Her hand and arm were numb, and the familiar weight of her phone was absent. Sleep was driven from her mind, even as the dream lingered, and she swept her arm over the bed to find it. Her phone began to ring. She cursed, throwing off the sheet and scrambled to the other end of the bed, the tinkling noise growing closer.

She lurched over the edge and stared down to no avail; she could hear it, but still couldn't see it. She groped for it blindly, trying to snatch it up before the call ended. She touched it, felt the subtle vibration as it rang and snatched it up.

The call had ended.

She glowed, cursing her failure and unlocked the phone to search the call log. She held her breath as it loaded, staring at the new number at the top of the list. There was no name attached, but it was something new, different. She dialed the number back and waited with baited breath as it rang.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

The fourth ring didn't come; instead she heard quiet breathing coming from the other line. She reached out anyway, a desperate, awkward introduction spilling out of her mouth. Her mouth went dry as she listened for a reaction. She'd been shot down by wrong numbers and telemarketers, there was no good reason to believe, even for an instant, that she'd hear from him.

She barely caught distant words come through the line, and she hugged the phone closer to her ear. She introduced herself again, but was cut off midway though as her son called out to her. Tears spilled from her eyes as she listened to his voice, but then his words turned her heart to ice.

That man was hurting her son.

* * *

Author's note: I rewrote this chapter so many times. I started with Touya, that didn't feel right. I changed how he got the phone, but it still didn't feel right. I tried starting with Bakugo (meaning canon Torodoki) putting in effort to fight/'train' with Endeavor to buy Touya time to get the phone. I wrote it from Endeavor's point of view, showing he was eager to see a shift in Bakugo's willingness to fight back... but in the end, it only really worked if I stuck with Mitsuki.


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